


Azure Sky

by Njoldara



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arthas is a dick, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kinda Slow Grow, Possession, Possible smut, Slow Romance, Wrath of the Lich King
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:51:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4760624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Njoldara/pseuds/Njoldara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sapphira Azurebreeze, daughter of the infamous Connordia Dawnhallow, is one of the most powerful frost magi known. However, these talents can attract the attention of persons one might want to avoid. *Some of this is not lore friendly but I don't care*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

Before

She always dreamt of that night, the very first memories she had. It was a ghost that followed and haunted her, made of crackling flames and onyx smoke. It left in the day, only to return in the night. When her head hit her pillow after a hard day's work, it came flying back and embraced her. Always.

 _Tangerine hair and fel blood-coloured eyes, that's what she always remembered most. Her mother's distinguishing Sin'dorei globes of emerald and her regal, elegant face. That face was merely a mask, used to cover the madness and unspoken whispers beneath. She didn't want to remember the madness, the slaughter, the smell of burning flesh and the screams of those being incinerated alive. But she always did, always saw what her mother had done._  
_It had been a normal night in Dalaran as always, mages discussing research and new spells they had written. That normalcy was shattered in a moment's notice, when the first human fell dead, face charred black. It was shattered by Connordia's manic laughter and will to obey unseen masters. And then another mage, and another, and another... They fell one by one, flames from their bodies spreading to various buildings, painting an orange hue across the city. Each mage that couldn't run fast enough was caught in the inferno, dying a most painful death._  
_She remembered hiding from Connordia in the Violet Hold with civilians, too young to understand what was happening and why battalions of battle-mages were being sent out into the streets. She hated the way the others glared at her, as though her mother's lust for power and her succumbing to the lure of the old gods' promises were her fault._  
_“I want her alive,”, Jaina had said, “a simple spell to the heart is too good for her.” Lady Proudmoore had looked with unparalleled disgust at Connordia Dawnhallow when she was finally detained and in irons. Argent Crusaders kept a close eye on her as she was dragged into the lower reaches of the Violet Hold, to be executed. Yet neither the paladins nor the mages saw the small shadow with orchid eyes and raven wing hair follow them._  
_The red headed elf was forced to the floor on her knees, with both arms bound in chains at her sides. Her head was forced into the cold cobblestone by an armored foot as she looked up at the Kirin Tor mage above her. “Whatever you have to say, you best say it now.”, Jaina had hissed down at her, hatred not disguised in the least. Connordia did not reply, only spitting in an Argent Crusader's face and smirking. And then, a great sword came down, and her head rolled across the floor, all witnessed by the small shadow. Then, the choking cries and the horror at the cruel smirk permanently etched into her mother's face_.

Sapphira awoke from the reoccurring nightmare to a loud pounding on her front door and a baritone voice calling her name quite frantically. Suddenly, the screech of metal and the splintering of wood. The lithe woman jumped from her bed and ran out into the foyer, only to see her assistant standing amongst what looked like the remains of her front door. “My lady, are you alright?”, he said worriedly, his voice wavering from having smashed himself into her home. “Thalarion, for the love of the Light, just because I don't answer immediately does not mean I am dead or dying!”, she squalled at the tall, crimson haired Sin'Dorei.  
“This is the third time this month!”, she continued, her violet eyes flashing with anger. Thalarion did not reply, only bowing his head in embarassment. Only then did Sapphira realize she was still in her nightclothes, and she quickly attempted to cover herself. “Get out, now!”, she hissed before heading back towards her bedroom.  
For once, Thalarion obeyed and left quickly as soon as his mistress's back was turned. When he returned to the streets of Dalaran, he snickered softly to himself. As bad as he felt over breaking down her door for the third time in a month, he always found it funny to watch Sapphira fly into a rage. She was normally just so....cold and intimidating. She was odd looking for a blood elf, with her raven hair and royal purple eyes. They stood out so much against her alabaster skin and high cheekbones. When she was in her full navy blue, Kirin Tor purple, and midnight black robes and cloaks, she seemed more dark and cold than she did in a white night dress. She walked with a queenly sort of grace, and her robes billowed behind her, she always looked truly impressive. Her hair was always pulled into a tight bun, she seemed so uncharacteristic with it loose and hanging down. But then again, he had woken her up with his frantic breaking and entering.  
Sapphira did not know why the Kirin Tor and the Argent Crusade ever thought it a good idea to put her and Thalarion Sunstrike together as a team. She had a reputation for being one of the most talented frost magi in existence, and it was known that Thalarion did not have an affinity for magic. Although, his prowess in melee combat far surpassed any other paladins thus known. Thalarion was tall and burly, extremely musceled with wide shoulders and deep crimson hair, always pulled into a high Kal'dorei tail. He wore traditional blood knight armor, everything carved to look like a phoenix's wings.  
It fit him extremely well, as he had the grace of Al'ar on the battlefield. He handled a great sword like an extension of his arms. His long, scarlet locks often flew behind him, creating a red halo of sorts around him.  
Sapphira returned from her thoughts about Thalarion and started pulling herself together for the day, putting her hair up in its tight bun and donning her robes and staff. She'd fix her door some other time. She had more important priorities right now.


	2. Blighted Wyrm

After pulling herself together after a frankly, quite an unenjoyable morning, Sapphira strode up to her assistant, who was standing under a nearby lamp post. She curtly tapped on his shoulder with a long, black gloved finger. He turned around suddenly and reached for his greatsword, as though he were being attacked. “...whuh?”, he said, dazed, after realizing there was no threat. “Someone out to get you?”, she murmured sarcastically.   
“No, my lady. I was distracted, that's all.”, he explained, seeming rather embarrassed. “You can't be distracted, not where we're going today. Compose yourself, now.”, she ordered, conjuring up an aqua-coloured tome. “Where would that be, exactly?”, he questioned, tightening his hair into a high Kal'dorei tail.   
“I would've told you earlier, had we not wasted time with you barging into my home unannounced and catching me in my nightclothes.”, she spoke icily, glaring up at the taller elf. Thalarion did not reply, only hiding his face sheepishly. “Anyway”, she continued, “We're due to go to the Dragonblight today. The Archmage wants us to find out all we can on the reanimated frost wyrms.” The red-headed elf's eyes widened.   
Frost wyrms. Now that there, that was a challenge. Blue dragons were an incredible pain to deal with, as he had witnessed on a trip to the Borean Tundra. He heard stories of the great bone wyrms from comrades who had been deployed into Icrecrown, and honestly, they sounded terrifying. He wouldn't let Sapphira know that, though. She thought so little of him to begin with, or at least her mannerisms caused him to believe she did.  
Thalarion didn't know what to think of Lady Azurebreeze. He knew she was bitter, broken down, and cold after years of punishment for her mother's crimes, metaphorically of course. He knew she had built up walls of iron and steel after all the pain. Supposedly, it was impossible to get close to the woman. People often said that she had no heart, only a dedication to her position as a Kirin Tor mage. He had a strange sense of protectiveness over the fragile looking elf, although she kept him at a far distance, like all others.   
The paladin was snapped out of his thoughts when a sharp jab came from Sapphira. “Are you even listening? Did you hear even a single word I just said?”, she growled. He didn't reply, only shaking his head in the universal “no” gesture. The raven haired woman let out a loud sigh of exasperation. “Just meet me at the landing in the front of the city in fifteen minutes. Make sure you're dressed warmly and are adequately armed.”, she spoke tersely, marching off towards the landing, muttering nonsense.

-*-

About an hour later, the two elves found themselves in the icy graveyard known as the Dragonblight. Sapphira had donned a thick black cloak and hood that hid her entire face. Thalarion merely had put on a heavier mantle and a crimson and gold bordered hood. The ice mage took the front, marching through the thick snow with her paladin following close behind.  
Thalarion gaped at the massive bones surrounding them. He hadn't ever dreamed that dragons of such size could exist. Sapphira busied herself with cracking one of the gigantic rib bones around them, and grinding the marrow into a dust, before putting it into a dark pouch. The paladin looked up to the sky, feeling the cold wind biting at his jaw. “My lady, with all due respect, today might not have been the greatest day to venture out into this wasteland.”, he mused, turning towards his counterpart,  
“And why would that be?”, she replied, not looking up from the bones. “Those clouds do not look friendly. Don't you worry that we'll be caught in a blizzard?”, his face turning grim at the thought of such a horrible death. “We're not out here to worry. We're out here to research.”, she said matter of factly. He groaned, “Yes, I know that, but its pretty hard to research when there isn't a damned thing around except for dragon skeletons and the possibility of a blizzard!”. He gestured around him, throwing his hands up in the air.  
And just like that, it felt like an earthquake. Something massive had crashed to the ground, and it smelled of decaying flesh and salty ice. Both he and Sapphira had been knocked to the snowy floor, but only had flipped around to see what had caused the disturbance. He really wished he hadn't, as soon as he did though.  
It was gargantuan, and was alight with the characteristic glow of Scourge magic. It had teeth and claws that were the size of his greatsword, and great wings that could sweep him off of his feet in one go. Stories of the frost wyrms didn't even compare to seeing the real thing. Thalarion immediately threw himself into a standing position, before drawing his weapon and charging at the undead dragon's foot.   
When he saw the spikes of ice come firing from behind him, he knew Sapphira had righted herself and was ready for combat. The drake clawed at him, but he managed to block its strikes with his sword. It let out a terrifying howl when he saw that Sapphira had managed to send a bolt of ice straight into the thing's eye socket, and then another into its neck. The paladin saw a chance to finish it off, and took it. He grabbed on to the things arm and hurled himself up to its neck, and with a final swing, dismembered its skull from the rest of its body.  
The rotting dragon fell dead, and Thalarion crawled off of it, falling backwards into snow in the process. He looked to his right and saw Sapphira make a beeline for the massive skull, producing small picks and apothecary bottles. He made no effort to get up, only laying back into the cold and putting his hands over his face. They smelled of the frost wyrm.   
“..truly amazing....they'll be so pleased...”, the holy knight heard his mistress muttering. He peeked through his fingers and saw that the tiny elf had moved on to the body, taking webbing from the wings and shards of claw. “What're you doing down there? Get up.”, she questioned harshly, extending a hand towards him.  
Wait a moment. Sapphira Azurebreeze, willingly making physical contact with another living being? That can't be right. He sat there with a dumbfounded expression, rather than taking her hand and getting up. “Are you going to sit there like an idiot or are you going to accept my help?”, she growled. “Ah.., um, Yes, my lady...”, he stuttered, finally taking the dainty hand and heaving himself up off the ground.


	3. A Friend

Even after Sapphira had turned her back on him and busied herself with some sort of thing he wouldn't bother to understand, Thalarion stood in awe that she had willingly extended her hand to him. He had not once ever seen her try to make physical contact nor did she ever react well when someone tried to make it with her. He was lost in his thoughts and did not notice when the first bout of snow began to fall and the wind began to pick up.  
It took his face beginning to go numb for him to snap back into reality. The snow had started to come down in great heaps and he was having trouble making out anything even just a few feet in front of him. He could no longer see the small lady who had been present by a skeletal drake's remains.  
“My lady!”, he called out, traipsing forward into the thick snow. His scarlet hair was blowing in his face and got caught in his mouth a few times. “Thalarion!”, came the returning call of a lilting voice, somewhere on his left. He heard the crunch of foot steps in the thick snow and soon felt a small form bang into his side, immediately backing away as soon as it had felt his armor. “My lady, is that you?”, he yelled, putting his hand on the significantly lower shoulder.  
“Yes, you don't have to scream!”, Sapphira shouted back, worming away from his hand. “We need to find shelter or we're going to die out here.”, she continued, pulling her hood farther around her face. The paladin could only see a shadow standing in front him, with a cloak whipping around in the strong wind.   
“I thought I saw a cave entrance over there, when I could actually see!”, he said, motioning in a nondescript direction. “Then move, lead on. I'll be right behind you!”, she replied. He grabbed her thin forearm despite her cries of protest and tugged her along through the relentless blizzard. The two kept trudging through the ice and snow, staying alive purely from the warmth of being near each other. Several times Sapphira fell over and Thalarion had to drag her back up on her feet.  
What felt like years later, they finally came to what seemed like an entrance underground. Thalarion pushed his mistress forward into the cave first. She didn't hesitate to run in immediately out of the bone aching cold. He followed, and as soon as he was out of the frost, he collapsed on his knees, face on the ground.  
The Sin'dorei awoke to a sharp poking at his shoulder from a narrow, bony finger. He tried to say something but only came up with a groan. The poking turned into a shaking, and Sapphira hissing “Get up, you lug!”. After he finally managed to peel his face off the sleek, almost glasslike ground, his eyes widened at his surroundings.  
The walls looked like a transparent ice, with streaks of orchid, aqua, and blue dancing behind them. Around the ceiling and floor were chunks of what mimicked Saronite, only with veins of Scourge-blue aglow in them. It was ethereal and beautiful, unlike anything either Sapphira or Thalarion had ever seen. There was strange singing in the air, like what one would hear if they were near one of the great trees present in Crystalsong Forest.   
The frost mage was the first to get up on her feet, gazing in wonder at their unnaturally beautiful shelter. She put her hands and an ear to the wall, listening closer for the singing. The paladin followed, wandering around the room with eyes like saucers. “What do you think this is?”, he mused aloud, scraping a finger along the Saronite-like ore. “I haven't any idea. “, she replied, turning in his direction. “Take some samples of that ore.”, she ordered, tossing him an array of tools and bottles.   
“I don't mean to sound ignorant, but I don't know how to do that.”, he said, analyzing the supplies with great confusion. “Allow me to show you, then. Maybe then, you can provide more than protection.”, she said, striding over and kneeling next to him.  
He flopped down on the ground, watching as Sapphira organized the tools in a particular order. After a lengthy explanation of what each hammer or pick was for, and what you were meant to put in the different bottles, she handed him some of the supplies. “Now, since this is ore, and appears to be Saronite, which is a fairly hard mineral, which hammer and bottle would we use?”, she questioned. He raised up a hammer with a bladed back and a rounded flask. “Correct. Now take some samples.”, she motioned toward the rock.  
With Thalarion's attention directed at plinking at the lump of ore, Sapphira took a moment to speak. “I wanted to thank you for getting us out of that blizzard. You were right about how I should've payed more attention to the weather.”, she bowed her head in mock-shame. The burly elf froze and turned to look at her. She cocked her head up to look at him, violet eyes bright against alabaster skin. “It was my duty. You are my partner, yes?”, he tried not to stutter, looking back at the Saronite.  
“I suppose so. It was the first time you were useful.”, she spoke. Thalarion felt some anger boil up before hearing what she said next. “That was joke, I promise.”, she giggled a little bit. “You don't do humor much, do you?”, he chortled a bit, putting a cork on the now Saronite filled flask.  
“Noticed that, did you?”, she fell back on her posterior, switching so that her legs were in front of her. She seemed to be relaxing a bit, not holding her normally intimidating presence. “Well...you don't really talk much unless you're giving orders or calling me some variation of the word 'idiot'.”, he sniggered some more.  
He handed her the flask and hammers, which she observed a bit before packing them away in a dark leather satchel. “You deserve that most of the time.”, she giggled some more, “Certainly with the whole breaking down my door on a regular basis thing.” He blushed and turned his head away, his crimson locks falling over his chiseled jaw.   
“Which brings up the question, why is it exactly that you do that?”, she continued. “To purposely put a kink in your morning?”, he snorted from laughing. “Honestly though!”, she tensed up.  
“You said it yourself. I am your partner, my job is to provide protection for you.”, he explained, pointing to the sword strapped to his back. “Protection does not mean destroying my property, Thalarion.”, she made a mock-glare at him.   
He couldn't help but burst into a fit of guffaws at the glare she gave him. “Oh, for the love of the Light, what did I do wrong?”, she scowled. “Stop that!”, she growled, slapping his calf. When he had finally gotten the laughter out of his system, and Sapphira was thoroughly irritated, he tried speaking again. “My lady, you do not answer when I call out to you in the mornings. I hear no signs of life from you. I break down your door because there are signs that you are dead or dying. Nothing more.”, he coughed out, voice raspy from his fit.   
She was boring a hole into his eyes. Those violet orbs she possessed seemed to see straight into his soul. After this had gone on for a lengthy period of time, she spoke. “I'll try to do that less then.”, she said softly. She looked out near the entrance where the two of them had fallen in from the horrid blizzard. “The weather doesn't show any signs of letting up soon. I think we're due to be here for a long while.”, she mused.   
“Sapphira...do you mind if I call you that right now?”, he questioned, his voice tinted with worry. Her gaze snapped back to him, eyes a bit widened at the sound of her name. “I suppose not.”, she answered. “Why do you seem uncomfortable all of a sudden?”, he prodded.

“You should know.”  
“I don't believe I do.”  
“Who's the last person that was ever partnered with me?”  
“....I don't know.”  
“Exactly! Because there hasn't been one before you!”  
“What does this have to do with you seeming out of sorts?”  
“My word, for a paladin, you really are quite daft.”  
“You're changing the subject, Sapphira.”

She took in a deep breath before speaking again.

“I don't eve know why I'm telling you this, but...... I haven't heard another person speak my name since my mother was alive.”  
“That was years ago. Surely someone had spoke your name in that time since she.....”  
“Was executed?”  
“Uh... yes, that.”  
“Don't dance around it, I'm not made of glass.”  
“I'll take note of that.”  
“As I was saying, before you interrupted my train of thought, you are the first person to say my name aloud in sixteen years.”

“I suppose I could see why you would be a bit uncomfortable then....”, Thalarion said, reclining back on the singing crystal wall. “So you had no friends? No one to ever speak your name?”, he questioned further.  
“Do I look like the sort to have friends?”  
“Would you be offended if I answered truthfully?”  
“Not at all.”  
“Then, no, you don't.”  
“My point proven then.”

“If I'm not being bold, my lady”, he said slowly, skirting around the chance of offending Sapphira,”I consider you a friend.”  
She had been eyeing a certain streak of colour moving throughout the walls, but her attention was snapped fully back to Thalarion.


	4. Thoughts

“...you consider me, a friend?”, she sounded out the words as though she had just learned them. “Yes.”, was Thalarion's simple reply. “You have poor choice in accomplices then.”, she said haughtily, turning her elegant face away from him. “Why would you be a poor choice?”, he asked, reaching over and grabbing her thin jaw, forcing her to look at him. He immediately regretted making the advance when a sharp slap came across his cheek and chin, near the scarlet goatee he wore. “Don't. Ever. Touch. My. Face.”, she hissed, on her feet and with a fire burning in her eyes.   
Thalarion had forgotten that Sapphira was not used to touch after they had been talking so long and she had grown relaxed in his presence. He should've guessed that the action he had just performed would've provoked some sort of violent response. She had tolerated him saying her name, but only tolerated, not enjoyed. He wanted her to hit him again, to remind him that Sapphira could not be handled the way other people were. Hell, he wanted to hit himself. Light knows that Sapphira was going to hold this against him for ages.  
He stood up and raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, bowing his head away from her burning gaze. “Please forgive me, I don't know what came over me.”,he pleaded, sincerely hoping that she would forgive him, although he knew that the chances were slim. He could hear her shuddering breath before she said very tentatively, “You are forgiven.”  
Had he heard her correctly? She was truly going to forgive him for a most terrible blunder on his part? The paladin looked up, directing his lime-green eyes to meet her orchid ones. “Did I hear you correctly?”, he said with great confusion, and he could feel a warmth building in his chest. “I said that you are forgiven. Now, lets forget the entire debacle, please?”, her voice was starting to fall back into it's usual tone.   
He nodded, and she slid down the wall back to floor with her legs in front of her, robe pooling around the sides of her calves. He sat back down as well, sitting cross legged with his back against the ice-like walls. They sat in silence for an hour, before Thalarion went to speak, only to realize the smaller elf had fallen asleep in the quietness. Her head had fallen against her shoulder, her breath slow and steady. He noticed that in the tranquility of sleep, all the bitterness and seemingly constant anger fell away from her like like a feather from a bird. He had only a short time to look upon the sight though, before sleep overtook him and wrapped him in a numb, blissful embrace.

-*-

He awoke to the sound of Sapphira cursing and the pages of a book being flipped quite loudly. Then, the crack of a book being heaved to the ground. Thalarion leapt to his feet and raced over to the corner where the magi had stationed herself. She didn't notice the knight until she had given the tome a good, hard kick, sending it gliding across the cave. “What's all this?”, he questioned with concern, motioning to the book across the room. “I never was good at portal spells.”, she spat, glaring at the spellbook.  
“Trying to summon a portal to Dalaran, then?”, he concluded. He was still a bit concerned since he had never seen Sapphira show such frustration. “That was the idea. All I've gotten is that, however.”, she growled, pointing to a small pile of teal ashes on the ground. Rather than try to calm Sapphira down, Thalarion ventured over to the entrance of the cave, poking his head outside. He was met by bright sunlight and clear sky. “There's no need for a portal, look outdoors.”, he waved her over and pointed.   
The angry mage didn't respond, only grabbing the spell tome, putting her hood back up, and venturing back into the Dragonblight.

-*-  
It had taken several hours, but the pair had marched across the icy wasteland and managed to bring themselves back to Dalaran. As soon as they had gotten themselves back on the landing at the front of the city, Sapphira turned to him. “Go take care of yourself and meet me by the Sunreavers' headquarters in about three hours, I'll handle turning in these samples.”, she ordered. “As you say, my lady.”, he replied, giving her a quick salute before heading towards the inn he had taken a permanent residence at. 

It was on this day that Thalarion was truly grateful that the inn had these things called “showers” rather than baths. As soon as he had stepped into the bathroom that his room had, he stripped of his armor and stepped into the enclosed area where the water nozzle was. He sighed as he felt the warm water cascading down his back and chest, raising his hands to take his hair out of its characteristic tail.   
His thoughts drifted to Sapphira and the events that had passed in recent time as he put his head beneath the stream of water. She had confided in him, allowed him to touch her on one occasion, slapped him, taught him, forgiven him, and generally loosened up in his presence. He hadn't really had time to process it all, even during the tiring trek back from the Dragonblight. What captured his attention most, however, was the warm feeling he had had in his chest when he looked upon her sleeping form or when she had gazed directly into his eyes.   
Thalarion had had romantic relationships before, of course. He was known for good looks and muscle in Silvermoon, but that's all that women ever really found in him. He had eventually grown bored with the general shallowness of all his previous romantic endeavors, and just grown blind to female attention. Not once had his heart ever sped up just from another looking into his eyes nor did a warm feeling pool in his chest when he saw a woman deep in tranquil slumber. Not until his imprisonment with Sapphira.  
He knew what these various “feelings” meant. His fellow Argent Crusaders loved to tell of how their lovers felt those “feelings” when they were around them, and vice versa. He hated that he was starting to have these thoughts and “feelings” for Sapphira. Not that he thought of her badly, not in the slightest. To him, Sapphira was an enigma. She possessed such beauty, and ignored it. She had a brilliant mind, but only used it to carry out orders given by those who thought themselves superior to her. She had great magical power, but only focused on what she failed in magically.  
Sure, her tongue was sharp like a sword, and she was cold, unfeeling to the rest of the world. He realized she was flawed, but he thought her to be flawed in the most perfect way.  
He knew that these thoughts were only going to grow, and that they would certainly never be reciprocated. He could never be able to act on these emotions and thoughts, knowing that Sapphira would react with more than just a slap. But, if he had to keep his emotions and desires to himself to keep from making their partnership implode, and never seeing her again, he would do it.

 

-*-

Sapphira had stood and watched Thalarion make a beeline to the inn he stayed at before heading towards the Violet Hold. Nothing eventful happened when she handed off her samples from the Dragonblight. There was the usual glare of contempt from Jaina, who watched disdainfully as she gave the various pouches and bottles to a gnome alchemist. Jaina had listened closer when Sapphira had handed over the Saronite samples, explaining where she and Thalarion had found them and why they had taken them. After a simple salute and a curt nod from Rhonin, Sapphira left, making her way towards her home.  
Sapphira gladly noted that her door had been repaired, before entering her home, looking forward to a shower. She entered the bathroom and peeled her robes, cloaks, and hood off of herself, before stepping into the shower and turning the cleansing water on. It took some doing, but she got her hair out of its bun, letting it fall against her thin shoulders.  
As she washed herself, her thoughts went to Thalarion. The paladin had behaved almost affectionately when they were trapped in that cave. She recalled the feeling of his strong hand on her jaw and her shoulder. Oddly enough, she had enjoyed it for a moment before snapping and slapping him. Also oddly, she had opened up to him. She had never had what anyone could call a friend, not once. But hearing him say her name, and confess that he thought of her as a friend.... She wanted to be disgusted, both with him and herself.  
She had always hated sentimentality and the concept of romantic love. That is not to say that she hadn't read at least ONE trashy romance novel. One can get bored on nights where they can't sleep. She knew how the beginnings of “love” always looked, or at least how they were depicted in books. She was not totally ignorant on the topic of relationships , although she hadn't ever had nor dreamed of having one herself. She saw how Thalarion blushed and how he listened to her, attention purely on her. Normally, it would make her absolutely sick, but she didn't mind when it came from him.   
She feared that Thalarion was starting to think of her in ways that were more than friendly. She could damn near to read his thoughts from his body language and mannerisms. She hoped he hadn't been able to do the same to her.


	5. Questions to Answers

Weeks had gone by since the thought provoking trip to the Dragonblight. The two elves' relationship had returned to its original state, with minimal conversation other than Sapphira getting angry or Thalarion generally being clueless. Morale was high in Dalaran, as the Kirin Tor and Argent Crusade had gained some ground against the Lich King. A celebration was planned, a ball, to help keep morale high and shed any remaining tension.  
Sapphira had been ignoring the hype from other female mages about the celebration, only focusing on her interactions with the gnome alchemist whose name she learned to be Risellie. “Well, what you found certainly is Saronite, but there's something off about it!”, the tiny, pink haired gnome squealed, gesturing to a lump of the ore in her little hand. “The place that you found it in sounds a lot like it has to do with the Titans. But, it being in a Titan-esque place doesn't explain these blue veins. You see, Lady Azurebreeze, these veins show that Scourge magic has been literally imbued into the ore! Scourge magic is volatile, and it needs to have a 'host' of sorts, to be able to be used properly. Take a spellbook or the Lich King's sword or helmet, for instance. The spellbook, armor, and sword holds the magic itself, but the user, lets say Arthas, is a conduit. Kind of like a wire, for the magic to travel through. Therefore, this Saronite is a 'host' for Scourge magic! Why Saronite of all things has been imbued, I don't know, but I'm sure I'll find out soon.”, Risellie finished, taking a deep breath.  
“Thank you for your help, Risellie. I'll stop by again in a few days.”, Sapphira stood up and began to walk away from the tiny alchemist. “Wait, one second!”, the gnome had squalled, hopping up and running towards the mage as fast her squat legs could carry her. “Yes?”, Sapphira asked, looking down at Risellie.  
“Thalarion was here earlier, looking for you. I don't know what he wanted, so I sent him off.”, the gnome stammered. Sapphira turned her gaze back towards the exit of Risellie's laboratory, which was inside a part of the Violet Hold. “Thank you.”, she only said, before continuing on her original track. 

She found Thalarion conversing with a Sunreaver under a lamp post, smiling and laughing. He turned and noticed her, before bidding the Sunreaver goodbye and striding up to the mage. “I was told you were looking for me earlier.”, she said when Thalarion reached her. “Ah...um, yes.”, he stuttered, fiddling with one of his gauntlets.  
“Thalarion, spit it out. I don't have time for this.”, she ordered. In reality, Sapphira had the entire day at her disposal, but didn't want to sit here and watch Thalarion melt into a nervous wreck. 

 

 

He knew it was against his better judgement to do such a thing, but he was having such difficulty enduring his thoughts of Sapphira that he couldn't help it. He absolutely had to, or he swore his heart would fall right out of his chest.

 

“My lady, I know it's inappropriate, but I wanted to request something of you.”, he stuttered some more, not doing a very good job of disguising his nervousness. Sapphira's long eyebrows raised and she cocked her head at him, not seeming so irritated anymore. “I wanted to know if you would do me the honor of being my 'date', if you will, at the upcoming celebration this week.”, he launched out, bracing himself for a crippling decline. She only stared at him. No reply, no expression, nothing.   
“I've offended you, haven't I?”, he worried aloud. “No, you haven't offended me. I am merely.... surprised. The ball is in two days, correct?”, she questioned. He was relieved that he hadn't offended her, but concerned about how she was eluding answering him. He nodded in response to her question. “I don't have a definite 'yes' or 'no' for you,”, she said tentatively, “however, I may put in an appearance at this dance. It is not set in stone.”   
He felt like falling over. She hadn't outright told him to get lost, but hadn't swooned and grinned at him either. Still, it pleased him greatly.


	7. Awake and Paranoid

Sapphira awoke in a warm, unfamiliar room, tangled in a tall, muscled elf's arms. She turned her head as best she could, seeing that it was Thalarion. She put two and two together, figuring she was in his room at the inn. She took note that she still had her dress and shoes on, that her eyes ached and felt puffy, and that her lips tasted of wine and ambrosia. She didn't recall eating anything at the dance, so it must've been the taste that Thalarion's lips left on her own.  
The memories of the ball came flooding back. Her breaking down and sobbing in front of Thalarion, the two of them dancing, the kiss they had shared, everything. She didn't know whether to be happy or reduce to a teary, red eyed mess. She had loved the way his lips fit against hers, the way his arms had wound around her shoulders, the way that he held her in his sleep. But she was terrified at the concept of being romantically involved with another person. She was conflicted. Saving her thoughts for another time, she settled back into Thalarion's embrace, falling back asleep with her head on his shoulder.

Only when our goddess' rebirth is near, shall they return. The death god, the one they call Arthas, will usher in the first of them. This will be the first of the goddess' guardians. There will be many more, at the goddess' command. Only then will they come in hordes, when the goddess returns. So it is written, so it shall be. Thus saith the goddess.

Thalarion woke up a few hours later, after Sapphira had fallen back into tranquil slumber, nestled in his arms. He smiled, looking down at the small woman, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Slow down with the affection, hotshot. You don't want to drive her away. Sapphira awoke with a groan from Thalarion's actions, rolling over to face him. He gathered her in his arms and pulled her close to his chest, resting his chin on her head. His suit's jacket had come undone, and Sapphira could see pale skin where buttons on his dress shirt had come undone.   
The two layed in eachother's arms for a good while before one of them spoke, breaking the sleepy, blissful silence. “Are you still comfortable with everything that happened last night?”, Thalarion muttered, using a free hand to prod Sapphira's head up and avert her gaze to him. She didn't answer, only breaking away from his arms and sitting on the side of the bed. “I have mixed feelings about the whole concept of having a relationship with you.”, she replied finally, burying her face in her hands.  
Thalarion maneuvered himself so that he was sitting next to her, and directed her gaze to him again. “I'm willing to wait until you're completely comfortable then, if that's what it takes.”, he reassured, taking one of her small, bony hands into his own. “That's not my concern, Thalarion. I'm absolutely terrified, as much as I hate to admit it, of being romantically involved. I don't know how to act, what to say, how to make advances.”, she cried, shuddering. “Most of all, I'm terrified that as soon as I allow myself to get attached to you, you'll disappear.”, she buried her face in her elegant hands again, drawing in shaky breaths.  
“Please don't be afraid anymore.”, he muttered, drawing her back into his arms and stroking her onyx hair. “I won't disappear either, I promise. You are still my partner, and my sole duty is to protect you. I can't very well disappear with that on my shoulders. Not with clear conscience anyway.”, he drabbled soothingly. “We'll take things slowly, alright? One step at a time.”

After Sapphira had eventually pulled herself together and Thalarion managed to drag himself away from her, she left and started to head for home, ready to go out on whatever mission Rhonin had in store for them. Her head was muddled with thoughts and worries that Thalarion hadn't been able to chase away, not even with his reassurances and displays of affection. She tried to make them dissipate as she stepped into her shower, but to no avail.

The pair of elves met up again outside the Violet Hold, with Thalarion offering a warm smile. He wanted to extend a hand to her, but he guessed that Sapphira wouldn't be one for public affection, especially if she was having trouble with private displays of affection. She gave him a nod in reply, gesturing towards the entrance where Rhonin would likely be waiting for them. She went first, as always, with Thalarion trailing behind her.  
“Lady Azurebreeze, what good timing.”, Rhonin commented as he looked up from a heated discussion with Vereesa Windrunner. “There is an assignment I need done, immediately.”  
“I'd be willing to fulfill it. What is it you require?”, Sapphira asked, voice back to its cold and business-like tone.  
“There's been an attack on one of our camps in the Howling Fjord. Would you please go check up on all residents?”  
“Sir, with all due respect, there are attacks on our camps daily. What's happened that makes this one important enough that a mage needs to be physically sent out of Dalaran?”  
“Lady Azurebreeze, this task is of utmost importance. I haven't the foggiest idea what attacked the camp, but the mages on the other side of the communicator were extremely frightened and out of sorts. You know that simple Scourge and Blue Dragonflight war parties don't make camps of magi fly into a panic.”, Rhonin explained, clearly getting irritated with Sapphira's hesitance.   
“Northern part of Howling Fjord, correct?”, she asked, pulling out a map and looking it over, with her paladin peering over her shoulder. “Correct.”, Rhonin stated, turning back to Vereesa.  
Sapphira turned to Thalarion, who had donned his Blood Knight armor and great sword, and spoke directly to him. “We leave at once. Go to the Northern landing and find us some sort of flying mounts. This is a journey that cannot be made on foot. I'll grab a few things from my home and meet you there in about fifteen minutes. Be ready.”, she ordered before striding away.

With minimal difficulty, Thalarion had managed to find two available dragonhawks for him and his mistress to use. It's been awhile since I've flown, Thalarion mused inside his head. He heard light footsteps behind him and automatically knew it to be his mistress. “Have you ever flown a dragonhawk, my lady?”, Thalarion questioned, saddling up a beautiful gold and silver Quel'thalas breed of dragonhawk.  
“I don't believe I have.”, she said, eyeing the strange creature with some skepticism. Thalarion moved on to saddling the second dragonhawk, which appeared to be a native Northrend breed. The edges of its wings were stained with an inky blackness, standing out against the faint blue-white of the rest of its body. “It won't be that difficult. Dragonhawks are fairly mild tempered and when well-trained, quite friendly and obedient.”, he remarked, extending his hand out to the mage.  
Thalarion planned on having Sapphira mount the Northrend breed, as it seemed much tamer and less prone to biting or disobeying. He couldn't say the same for the Quel'thalas breed.  
Sapphira took Thalarion's hand and allowed him to lead her close to the Northrend dragonhawk. It looked down on her suspiciously for a few moments, before returning to jabbering at the other hawk near it. Thalarion took a few moments to explain how to control the Dragonhawk, and what different noises meant what. After doing so, he helped her up on to the saddle, handing her the reins that dangled near the beast's sharp beak.   
When he was certain that everything was ready to go with his mistress, he returned to the Quel'thalas breed. It snapped at him a few times as he tried to mount it, but eventually seemed to accept his presence. “Do you know where to go?”, Sapphira asked, looking up from her mount to Thalarion. “Yes, I was looking over your shoulder while you took orders from Rhonin.”, he answered, taking the dragonhawk's reins. “Lead the way then.”, she took one hand and motioned to the open air away from the platform.   
With a nudge of his heels, Thalarion was in flight, headed towards the Kirin Tor camp in Howling Fjord. He turned and looked back to make sure Sapphira was faring well, but she seemed to have caught on to flying quickly.   
About halfway to Howling Fjord, Sapphira's thoughts drifted to what Risellie, the gnome alchemist, had said about the Saronite that she and Thalarion had found in the Dragonblight. A 'host' for Scourge magic, that's what she had called it. It definitely was thought provoking. She hadn't mentioned one particular thing to Risellie though. She hadn't mentioned that when she looked at the strange ore, she felt something looking back at her.


	8. Screamer

The human Kirin Tor mage didn't know what to make of what he and the remaining people had seen. It was long and serpentine, without legs, but with unbelievably large wings that it used in place of arms. It had been a dark, slate color, and was covered in what looked like plates of Saronite. Its lower jaw had been completely made of Saronite, and its horns lightly layered with it. Its eyes had been alight with a Scourge-blue fire. But that hadn't been what stuck out most. Not the blade on its tail or the Saronite jaw. No, what stuck out most was around its chest, there was a hole, filled with a chunk of Saronite ore, glowing with Scourge magic veins. The ore had been held in place by several chains and sheet of steel, he swore he could've seen a face drift by within the ore itself.  
It had come crashing out of the sky without warning, buffeting its wings, scattering mages left and right. With one sweep of its tail, it demolished several tents and crushed at least two mages. It had one particular ability that had given the survivors a name to coin it as. It had raised itself up like a rattler in Tanaris, positioning its wings behind it. And with one, swift motion, it threw itself forward, opening its mouth and dragging out a high pitched scream. The scream brought the mages to their knees, hands immediately moving to cover their ears. The human's ears had actually began to bleed when the creature had screamed.   
He took a swig of whiskey from a dwarf lady's flask, trying to drown out the memories of the horrid creature. There was only one name that the mage and the other survivors would know the creature by. Deathscreamer.

After hours of flying, Sapphira and Thalarion arrived at the wreckage of the Kirin Tor camp. There was a small group of survivors huddled beneath a tall tree, passing around a Dwarven whiskey flask. As soon as the pair landed, Sapphira waved Thalarion off. “Go look through the ruins. I'll speak with the survivors.”, she ordered, heading off towards the tree the group was nestled underneath.   
“Did Rhonin send you?”, a male human with bronze hair asked when he saw Sapphira, voice muddled from liquor. Sapphira nodded and saluted. The human didn't reciprocate her actions. “You want to what caused all this?”, the human growled, taking a long drink of booze.  
“Sir, that's why I'm here. Now, tell me what happened.”, she ordered, clearly tired of the human's drunkeness already. 

While Sapphira listened to what the survivors had to say, Thalarion poked through the destroyed wreckage of the camp. There were deep blood stains, and pieces of flesh strewn here and there, but no corpses. No flames either, which surprised the holy knight quite a lot. He partly expected that the Red Dragonflight had turned on them, and a team of Alexstrasza's handmaidens had come and tried to drown everything in fire. He knew that that would never happen though.  
After about a half hour of trying to find some sort of the clue in the wreckages, but to no great success, he heard Sapphira call him over to where they tied up their Dragonhawks. “I've set up a beacon by them. A team of hippogryphs should be by momentarily to rescue them.”, she said, motioning towards the group of drunken survivors. “I'll tell you what happened when we're up in the air.”, she continued, mounting her Dragonhawk.  
When the partners were soaring through the skies back towards Dalaran, Sapphira began to rattle of what the human had told her.

Heart of Saronite, imbued with the magic of the undead and the soul of the Damned. Bone of Frost Wyrm, and the power of the Death God's sword. When these three are combined, the Goddess' first guardian will come into existence. So it is written, so it shall be. Thus saith the Goddess.

Thalarion was in total awe of the recollection of events Sapphira had told him of. “They called it a 'Deathscreamer'?”, he wondered aloud, trying to imagine such a terrifying creature. “I've never heard of such an abberation before. I wonder if its at all possible that the Saronite I gave to Risellie has a connection to this 'Deathscreamer.”, Sapphira mused, her dragonhawk veering away from Thalarion's. 

Thalarion had let his guard down in the air, not fearing that anything would dare attack them. He was shocked out of this reverie, however, when he heard Sapphira's dragonhawk let out a screech of pain, and began falling right out of the sky. He saw Sapphira gripping on to the dragonhawk's torso, covering her sleeves in deep red blood. He tried to get his own mount to fly down after her, but it wouldn't listen, only continuing to fly forward.  
“Sapphira!”, he screamed, trying to gode the dragonhawk into listening, but it just pretended not to hear his commands or feel his tugging at the reins. He could only watch helplessly as his love plummeted down into a grove of trees.

 

The dying Northrend dragonhawk crashed through the branches and cold, frosty leaves, becoming like a ragdoll as it hit the icy ground. Sapphira, now battered and bruised, tugged herself off of the dead animal, and looked around the grove. Standing in front of her were three Vrykul women, one with a bow.  
“This is the one the Death God wanted, yes?”, the archer one asked the others. It was near to impossible to make out what she was saying through the thick accent. “Yes, sister.”, the other two answered simultaneously. The second in the trio, a heavily armored woman with a greataxe, marched forward, towards Sapphira. She grabbed Sapphira by her neck, lifting her off the ground. Sapphira slapped at the calloused hand, but to no avail. “Be careful, Sister, she is to be the vessel. She cannot be hurt.”, the other two Vyrkul said as they moved to Sapphira's sides, binding her wrists and ankles in chains.   
The third in the trio looked to be a seer, and she opened a glasslike image of what could only be Icecrown Citadel. “Step through, Sisters.”, she said, motioning towards the portal. The warrior threw Sapphira over her shoulder before walking through, being followed by the other two.


End file.
